


Elleskudt

by TheBlackGod



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackGod/pseuds/TheBlackGod
Summary: Background: I am currently in the process of writing a multi-chapter Thranduil x OC fanfic (be gentle with me, I have not written a single fanfic in a long time) and it occurred to me that one of the chapters would be pretty cool with an alternative turn of events, which didn’t really seem to fit with my vision for the whole original story, so I decided to make it into a separate fanfiction. The plot of the master fanfiction from which this is derived is not important to the plot of this one, so all you need to know is pretty much that the elleth OC, called Ringelen is imprisoned along with the dwarves (takes place during the Hobbit) and Thranduil takes her to Lorien to have his questions about her answered by Galadriel and Celeborn, because the elleth wouldn’t give him any answers herself. At the border of Lorien, Ringelen and the Mirkwood company are met by the march warden of Lorien whom Ringelen finds a bone to pick with. As it turns out, she has found the wrong elf to mess with, because Haldir finds an untraditional way to put her in her place for her boldness.
Relationships: Haldir of Lothlórien/Original Character(s), Haldir of Lothlórien/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. Elleskudt, Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Title Meaning: From Danish, “elleskudt” literally translates to “elf-shot” and is derived from old Norwegian folk tales, where people would get shot with poisonous arrows by creatures (elves) in the forest, causing them to fall ill. I warped the meaning in the sense of the fiction, as Haldir didn’t shoot Ringelen with his actual arrow, but the figurative one that he shot her with caused her to betray her principles.

As the prisoner walked in front of the whole company at a small distance, she was in her waking dream state that was so typical for any elf, as she needed her kind of rest for all the walking. Suddenly, her waking dream was interrupted by an arrow pointed straight at her face, which sure was not a part of her dream.

“Stop!” she shouted, in order to prevent the company from moving further, where it could possibly be unsafe. She then turned her eyes to the possessor of the bow and a glimmer of threat and at the same time curiosity could be seen in them.

“How unvigilant for an elf, you almost walked into an arrow willingly,” the elf holding the bow mocked.

“How uncourteous for an elf, to point an arrow at a fellow elleth,” the elleth bit back.

“I would not trust not to point an arrow at an elleth whom is evidently in chains,” the elf raised his eyebrows after he shot a quick glance at the shackles upon the elleth’s wrists.

“Oh, you mean these?” the elleth raised her enchained hands, “These are just a misunderstanding, I assure you, but you would have to learn more about it from the elven king, seeing as you were…” she paused meaningfully, “unvigilant enough to notice that this enchained elleth is accompanied by the royals of Mirkwood,” she smirked. The elf barely curled the corner of his lips in an ironic smirk.

“My lord Thranduil,” the elf raised his voice as the king approached and he sharply turned his bow to the ground away from the elleth, “It has been some time since you last came visiting fair Lorien. Greetings, I am Haldir – Marchwarden of Lothlorien. What brings you hither?”

“Well met, march warden. I have matters to discuss with the Lord and Lady, if you would give us your leave to pass,” the king announced.

“That goes without saying, my Lord, however, I am not sure of your prisoner here,” the march warden turned his suspicious gaze to the elleth.

“Do not worry about her, she will not bother anyone in these restraints,” Thranduil smiled at her ironically.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she muttered under her breath, but being an elf, Thranduil heard her, as she very well expected and he squinted at her threateningly.

“Very well, my lord, then you all have my leave to pass, follow me,” the march warden proclaimed as he turned one last time with suspicion to the prisoner.

“Be very afraid,” she whispered mockingly before he turned away and led the way into Lorien.

“That is enough, Ringelen,” the King ordered sternly, overhearing the elleth. “You seem to have a way with folk in position of power - a way of antagonizing them, that is,” he stated with amusement without turning to the elleth.

“You could say I have a way with such folk, yes, but what do you mean by ‘antagonizing’? – it is quite evident that he is fond of me, and so are you,” the elleth replied boldly with irony.

“Quite evidently, if one is so fond of you, they would not put you in restraints or point their sharp arrows at you,” Thranduil retorted. The elleth laughed.

“It depends,” she replied, more to herself than to him as she kept her gaze ahead, following the path of the march warden.

As Haldir led them to the house of the Lord and the Lady in Caras Galadhon, they were surprised to find that the Lord and Lady were already expecting them. Haldir’s brothers, Rumil and Orophin, had already brought the news of the oncoming guests.

“Welcome, Thranduil, king of the Woodland realm, welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil,” Lady Galadriel greeted them with her never fading smile and she paused before she turned to the elleth, “and welcome, Ringelen of Eregion, I have heard much of you from your guardian – the Lord Elrond of Rivendell. He would be quite perturbed to find out what you have landed yourself in,” she teased with a warm smile.

“My fair Lady,” the elleth bowed, her tone was completely different and humble when talking to the Lady, as opposed to the manner of speaking that Thranduil and Haldir had provoked in her. “I assure you that when he finds out what the quest I took upon has brought onto me, he would self-handedly surrender me to king Thranduil and his dungeons, if that would withhold me from any further quests,” Ringelen explained almost gravely, but with a tone of humor, fully acknowledging her own situation. The lady laughed gently and the sound filled the air with joy.

“I am in no position to guide the king’s ruling hand when it comes to his own prisoners, but here in Lorien, you are a free elleth, so if the king would be so kind as to release you for the duration of your stay, I would be most grateful,” she turned meaningfully to Thranduil. “I do not believe they are necessary to begin with, for based on what I know, this is her being courteous – I am not convinced that those chains would have stopped her from escaping you on your way here,” Galadriel shot a knowing glance at Ringelen with a smile. “Do not worry, if she should by any chance try to leave, I doubt that Haldir will give her an easy time.” With these words, Haldir turned to the elleth and everything in his gaze just spoke ‘I will be watching you’. Ringelen shot him an ironic smile as she raised her eyebrows, hinting that she would not be easily subdued.

“Most certainly, my Lady,” the king bowed his head slightly, his silver-blond hair cascading down his shoulders, even though there was the slightest bit of reluctance that he should remove the restraints. “Legolas, unbind her. I will need you to keep her close under watch, march warden, while my son and I are occupied with the business which concerns us.”

“If you do not mind me saying, Lord, a piece of advice would be to replace them across her mouth,” Haldir said as he looked at Ringelen.

“As the fairest of ladies mentioned, march warden Haldir, you will come to find that it would take much more than chains to bind me – hands or otherwise,” she almost whispered and Haldir could not help thinking that his name rolled nicely off her tongue. While elves were not ones to be smitten by looks, he could not deny that she was as beautiful as a cold winter night with her long black hairs falling down her white shoulders, at the same time she was as hard as steel and as proud as a mountain and this wildness in her sparked his interest, but this spark could not burn out the irritation that she caused him. No one had ever dared to talk down to him like that and he did not like it.

“I could figure something out,” Haldir hinted with an even tone of threat.

“Please, make sure to let me in on your ideas,” Ringelen retorted.

“I might indeed be compelled to beyond my will.”

“Your spirit can certainly not be bound, Ringelen and we shall need more and more such spirits in Middle-earth as years advance,” the lady cut in with a smile with the intention to stop this brawl which seemed like it could and very well would go on forever. “I would like to hear of your quest so far, as soon as king Thranduil’s questions have been answered,” Galadriel slowly turned her all-knowing gaze from Ringelen to Thranduil and gestured that he follows her and the lord. Ringelen and Haldir were solely left behind and she sighed deeply. She knew that she could not possibly leave Lorien unnoticed, therefore she did not even intend to (not to mention she could not go back into Mirkwood for the dwarves without being caught and put under double watch), but if she was to take in the beauty of fair Lorien for the first time, she certainly did not fancy having a march warden on her tail – a quite bold march warden nonetheless. She gave him a meaningful look as she turned on the heel of her boot and let her feet take her just anywhere in Lorien.

“On your way to attempt to escape, I suppose,” Haldir followed her as she expected he would and she rolled her eyes.

“You really believe that, do you not?” She questioned rhetorically with barely any emotion in her tone. “I am on my way to see the beauty of Lorien with my own eyes – the only joyful thing that I will get to do for a long time, if you must know my intentions, march warden.”

“Then if you would take my advice, though I would hardly suffer to be the one to bring you to your joy, I can show you a place where you can bring this intention of yours to life,” the march warden stated flatly.

“I am most tempted to refuse anything you could offer, but I have longed to behold Lorien for way too long to give in to this…impulse and seeing as you dwell here, you would know much better what is most worth seeing,” she shot him a meaningful glance, “lead the way then, if you will, march warden.” Ringelen stated a little more courteously and with an ever so slight bow of his head, almost a mocking one, he took the lead.

They walked in tense silence up a hill, Ringelen unsure where to stop her gaze first on the way there, as everything seemed worth being absorbed by her sight and everything seemed to warm her soul, so her head would constantly turn left and right, like an excited small child would. That is indeed how she felt, for through all her years, the only look upon Lothlorien she had ever had was through the words in her books and it seemed now even to her, an elf, like a fantasy come to life.

“I bid you welcome to Cerin Amroth,” Haldir announced as they reached the top of the hill and Ringelen’s breath was caught in her chest. The view that was revealed to her was far beyond the wildest fruits of her imagination.

“You really meant what you said, did you not,” Ringelen rather stated than asked, as she recalled Haldir’s words. He held back a smirk. She was now a completely different elleth than the one he had met at the border of the realm. She was peaceful and fully absorbed by the sight. For all it was worth, she decided could spare him a retort or two in exchange of him having brought her to this place of pure magic. She gazed at Caras Galadhon and as reluctant as she was to snap out of her daze, she turned to the other side and could see Anduin and southern Mirkwood, which made her acknowledge how long the way was to come hither from the great forest. Haldir was himself entranced by the view, though he had seen it many times, he never grew tired of it, but at the same time he was internally gloating, for he considered her reaction to the view a small victory on his side.

“I will be here for a while, just so you know,” Ringelen finally broke the silence as she finally turned to Haldir, seeing him stand quietly not far from her. Now that he stood on the background of this magical place, she could appreciate that he was handsome in his sternness as the southern wind blew through his blond hair, but sharing his own thoughts on the matter, this did not take away the slightest bit of irritation that he had brought to her, though the feeling was mellowed down ever so slightly after this gesture of his. She knelt and propped herself up on her left hand as she bore her sight into the distance again, looking almost as she owned the hill. Haldir examined her for a moment before making up his mind. He could easily leave her to her own devices, for even at the opposite side of Lorien, he would still know of her every move.

“If you should try anything at all, I will know,” though his tone was ever so stern, there was barely a trace of threat in it this time.

“No one would risk the wrath of the king,” Ringelen almost whispered with a grin, seemingly more to herself than to Haldir, as she did not turn his gaze towards him. She was amused at the turmoil she seemed to be causing for Thranduil with her very presence.

“No one but you, it appears,” the march warden noticed with a hint of blame mixed with fascination, as he was aware of the king’s temper no less than very much every elf.

“The wrath of kings is my playground,” she whispered again and her grin widened. Her tone suggested that no more was to be said, so Haldir turned on his heel hesitantly, inspecting her one last time before he went down the hill.

Long she lingered on the hill and she seemed to have lost her sense of time, as Haldir appeared once again, almost surprised that she had not moved from where he left her, for he had kept watch over her from afar. He brought news that there was to be a feast in honor of the guests, to which she was invited along with the king and the prince of Mirkwood. The lady had insisted that she would be present. Ringelen hesitated, for she was not one for feasts, but she held deep respect for the Lady and the Lord and made up her mind to appear at the feast after all.


	2. Elleskudt, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Background: I am currently in the process of writing a multi-chapter Thranduil x OC fanfic (be gentle with me, I have not written a single fanfic in a long time) and it occurred to me that one of the chapters would be pretty cool with an alternative turn of events, which didn’t really seem to fit with my vision for the whole original story, so I decided to make it into a separate fanfiction. The plot of the master fanfiction from which this is derived is not important to the plot of this one, so all you need to know is pretty much that the elleth OC, called Ringelen is imprisoned along with the dwarves (takes place during the Hobbit) and Thranduil takes her to Lorien to have his questions about her answered by Galadriel and Celeborn, because the elleth wouldn’t give him any answers herself. At the border of Lorien, Ringelen and the Mirkwood company are met by the march warden of Lorien whom Ringelen finds a bone to pick with. As it turns out, she has found the wrong elf to mess with, because Haldir finds an untraditional way to put her in her place for her boldness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title Meaning: From Danish, “elleskudt” literally translates to “elf-shot” and is derived from old Norwegian folk tales, where people would get shot with poisonous arrows by creatures in the forest, causing them to fall ill. I warped the meaning in the sense of the fiction, as Haldir didn’t shoot Ringelen with his actual arrow, but the figurative one that he shot her with caused her to betray her principles.

At the feast Ringelen answered all that Galadriel asked in terms of the quest, most skilfully avoiding any mention of Bilbo and begging the lady with her eyes that she ask nothing concerning him, for she was aware of the members of the company and he was now the company’s only hope of escape from king Thranduil’s ruling hand. The lady could very well guess her mind, so she made no mention of Bilbo at all. Thranduil, having received his answers from the lady Galadriel and now listening to everything that the elleth had to say, was even more aware of whom he was dealing with and this made him internally triumph over having her imprisoned, for few, if any, could ever achieve it.

The evening grew on and after having fulfilled her purpose at the feast, Ringelen felt even more out of place than when she joined in the first place. She was no queen or princess and she did not feel worthy of sharing a table with the Lady and Lord of Lorien and while she certainly did not see eye to eye with Lord Thranduil and his son, this did not make them any less royal. She was a warrior and a lore-mistress and that thought is where her heart lured her out of the feast and back into the openness of Lorien. She took leave of the lords and the lady and the lady having read her heart did not judge her, there was in fact understanding in her look.

Ringelen quickly distanced herself from all the fairness of the feast and her breathing calmed under the dim lights of Lorien. As she exhaled deeply in relief, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Are you not enjoying the feast?” Haldir asked flatly as his eyes were concentrated somewhere in the distance.

“I can take only so long of participating in one. I am a warrior. It is more than enough for me to feast on the beauty of Lorien, while I still can, for I will soon be back to feasting over the blood of my dead enemies. Why were you not there?” She raised her voice as she kept walking away, but Haldir was following her.

“I have my duties to follow,” he hinted and she acknowledged that he was still very well making sure that she would not escape. 

“An elf of his word,” she almost mocked, though it was respectable how strictly he followed his orders, for she knew that she could never be so obedient, had she a master to answer to. She had to answer in a way to lord Elrond, whom was almost like a father to her and she was very well disappointing him with her disobedience, though she was not proud of it. At last she stopped at a fair bridge and rested her hands on the railing, looking somewhere in the distance again. Haldir stopped close beside her with his ever stoic face and his arms crossed behind his back, turning his gaze to the distance in his own turn. 

“So,” he started evenly, “a warrior?”

“A warrior beyond anything you have seen,” she stated proudly.

“And a proud one nonetheless. A good warrior should be well aware that such pride could cost a lot in battle, if one does not remember to keep oneself grounded.”

“I am well aware of the losses that battle has to offer, march warden. You keep to your duties, I will keep to mine.”

“Oh, but our duties, as you call them, are not too different.”

“At least you have the shelter of Lorien. A traveller has none other shelter, but the shelter one finds or makes oneself.”

“Surely you are not implying that I have not faced dangers beyond the dangers of our borders?” Haldir squinted threateningly. It was his dignity that she was playing with and he would not have it. The match was lit and he knew it would not be long before she had it turned into a forest fire.

“How would I know of the duties of a march warden?” She teased.

“How would you, indeed. If you can almost walk into an arrow pointed at your face, you could easily walk into a sharp blade with the same ease,” Haldir retorted.

“Perhaps if you were more of a gentleman you would not have been pointing an arrow to a defenceless, enchained lady’s face,” Ringelen said over-dramatically.

“I would not go calling a lady with such a sharp tongue defenceless.”

“If you think my tongue is sharp, wait until you see my sword,” the brawl was getting more and more heated up as each of them defended their own dignity.

“You do not even have your sword on you and yet you speak,” he mocked.

“I do not need a sword to learn you a lesson, my two bare hands will do,” she hissed as she turned to face him. 

“Those two bare hands? Seeing how soft they are, all you could learn me would be a different way to braid my hair.” Surprisingly, that was the last straw drawn for her. Her jaw dropped. How dared the march warden call her warrior hands soft?

“You will not be able to braid your hair again after I am done with you,” she pointed at him threateningly. He was barely holding back from smirking at this point. He had gotten to her before she had managed to get to him. He succeeded at keeping his stern face for a little longer as he grabbed her wrist firmly and gave her a testing look. While he was already quite enjoying himself for his victory, there was another feeling spreading in his body now. For the first time it was that he felt greed. Suddenly his victory was not definite enough for him and he had indeed come up with a way to silence her and subdue her, as he promised he would.

“And you,” he paused, having decided firmly upon his intention and made a step towards her, “I will make sure that when I am done with you, you will not have an easy time walking the whole distance to Mirkwood tomorrow,” the threat came out almost as a whisper and before she knew it, he was dragging her forward by the wrist.

“Whither are you taking me, march warden?” Ringelen asked almost calmly as she did not think much of his threat. It was probably just another empty threat of his and all he would do was lock her up somewhere where he deemed she would not be able to escape from until the morning. Maybe he had finally gotten enough of her attitude, but she was content with his decision – surely the dungeons of Lorien could not be worse than the ones at Mirkwood and she was already getting used to them. The march warden gave no answer as he led her forward by the wrist determinedly. 

“If it is a dungeon, I shall understand. I am a prisoner after all, though I am only deemed as such in Mirkwood,” Ringelen stated carelessly in an attempt to pry out any answer from the march warden, as she was not fond of not receiving answers to her questions. Suddenly he stopped under a mallorn tree, upon the flet of which was built a house. There was a ladder leading to the flet.

“Climb,” Haldir ordered with a flat tone. Ringelen looked up the ladder and was puzzled. Surely the dungeons of Lorien were not cosy wooden homes like the ones that the free folk lived in, if dungeons Lorien had at all. She turned her questioning look to Haldir. “I said climb or I shall climb with you over my shoulder,” he commanded and while Ringelen was always reluctant when it came to orders, she did not think too much of it. She climbed the ladder and Haldir followed. As soon as they were both upon the flet, the tight grip of his hand was back on her wrist and as he opened the door to the house, he pushed the elleth gently inside. The moment he closed the door behind himself, Ringelen found herself with her back against the wall, hands pinned above her head and the march warden’s lips on hers. He slipped his tongue deep inside her mouth hungrily, earning an unexpected moan from her, which made him moan into the kiss in his turn.

“What do you think you are doing?” Ringelen hissed, breathing heavily. Her lips were slightly parted as she hesitated between a snide remark and between the desire building up in her. She was confused as the feelings built an internal conflict.

“I have only just begun,” Haldir mocked with a straight face and the next moment his mouth had covered hers again in another hungry kiss. Now he held her hands pinned with only his left hand as his right hand snaked around her jaw, squeezing it gently, holding her into the kiss. His body was pressed tightly to hers, holding her against the wall with his weight. His right hand crawled down the elleth’s neck, to her chest, exploring its curves before it examined her waist and slid down to her thigh. He let go of her hands and she wrapped them around his neck, as if they had done it on their own and as if it was the most natural thing to do. Both his hands now roamed about her thighs before they found her behind and he picked her up, making her wrap her legs around him. 

Haldir carried her to the bed as effortlessly as if he was carrying a leaf and he laid her gently down upon the soft sheets. He removed his cape and his top, exposing his torso, his chest rising and falling swiftly due to his fast breathing. The moonlight coming in from the window reflected in his pale skin as sweat had already started building upon it ever so slightly and the elleth could not help but think that she would be quite delighted to see the moonlight reflected even clearer on his skin, which would inevitably happen if his body was well covered in sweat. His blond hair was like a river of gold falling down his shoulders in the light of the moon. He looked down upon her intently as he started undoing his belt and she found that she was unable to move, almost as if he had pinned her down with the depth of his stern gaze and the dominance that radiated from his posture. Now he stood before her completely naked, revealing his already hard member and she acknowledged that her inner conflict was now long settled, for her body had betrayed her and so had her feelings. The desire had overthrown the pride and she had no intention of putting up a fight any more. 

As if hypnotised, Ringelen rose to her knees upon the bed and her hands crawled to the neckline of her dress, pulling it down her shoulders and returning his gesture by revealing her bosom. Haldir’s lips parted slightly at the sight and he climbed onto the bed. He knelt before her and impatiently helped her rid of her own clothes. The moonlight now shone down on both of their bodies and as Haldir had his hands upon her small waist, he waited as he looked into her eyes, as if he was putting her under the test whether she would resists much longer to be so close to him, but not act upon her desire. He was himself like a wolf preparing for the attack, attempting to intimidate its victim before going in for the kill. Not much longer could he last, however, as he pulled her in, their skins colliding with a sound and he kissed her deeply yet again. Haldir laid her back down, propping himself on his left elbow beside her head and positioned himself upon her body without breaking the kiss. He reached between his legs for his considerable length and he entered her unexpectedly, making her cry out. He could not wait. He would not wait.

“Now that is a sound that I can really appreciate coming out of your mouth,” he smirked against her lips before he hissed between clenched teeth in his own turn for the pleasure that his movement provoked. His lips would barely ever leave hers, even if his tongue was not running across hers in her mouth – if he was too overwhelmed by his own moans or by the struggle to contain his heavy breathing, his lips would still brush against hers. At first his pace was slow to steady and deep, but he could not keep at it too long before he picked it up and the room was filled with both of their moans and the sound of their flesh colliding. 

“As much as your moans utterly delight me, you might want to keep them down, unless you want for everyone to find out that the march warden has learned you a good lesson,” Haldir grinned cheekily before he pursed his lips and closed his eyes, submerging again in his pleasure. Ringelen had her fingers well-dug in his strong shoulders as she held his gaze with hers. Haldir now supported himself with his left hand gripping the headboard and could not help but pick up the pace even more. Now they both could place no restraints upon their moans as he was moving so fast that the headboard was colliding with the wall and the elleth’s legs were wrapped so tightly around his back as if her life depended on it. Suddenly, the pleasure was too much for her to take and her breath got caught in her chest – her eyes shot open and her lips parted widely before a loud moan escaped them.

“Oh, Haldir,” she cried out loud, looking into his eyes and holding onto a fistful of his golden hair. He clenched his teeth and slowed down until, to her distaste, he completely stopped his movements. He carefully pulled out of her, giving her a chance to catch her breath and he rolled onto his side, pulling her close to his body as he watched her chest rise and fall rapidly.

“Now that you have evidently admitted your defeat, why do you not repent by giving me my rightful reward?” Haldir purred against her lips.   
Ringelen hesitated for a moment, as she was trying to catch her breath through gritted teeth, but then her sharp mind perceived that this is just another dimension of their little game and she could still find a way to conquer him. She rose, not taking her eyes off of his and he turned to lie on his back, expecting that she was preparing herself to straddle him. It was to his surprise that she pushed his legs apart and nested in between them, lowering her mouth to his member. His lips parted in anticipation and he slightly lift himself up, so he could have a better view. She gave his member a playful lick from bottom to top before she guided it into her mouth with her hand. He closed his eyes blissfully as she took it all in and he was most unpleasantly surprised when she pulled it out of her mouth. He shot her a questioning look. All she did in response was give him another playful lick through her uncontainable grin. Haldir was beginning to catch on her game. He gritted his teeth as he forced her down by a handful of her black her and he commanded:

“Take it in...now,” his tone would not take no for an answer. Ringelen pretended to obey as she hungrily took his length in her mouth again and moved it up and down deeply. Haldir allowed himself to relax again and he closed his eyes with a deep moan, his hand still holding the elleth’s hair. She kept at it for a while, building up his pleasure, when she suddenly let it out of her mouth again. Haldir opened his eyes and his gaze was heavy with lust and threat. 

“You have chosen the wrong march warden to toy with, little elleth,” he hissed under the veil of desire. “Open nice and wide now,” he instructed threateningly and Ringelen smirked before she took his member deep in her warm mouth again. This time he had learned his lesson. His hand held her down in place as he proceeded to move in and out of her mouth at his own pace. His breathing was heavy and uneven, his moans could not be contained as his pleasure was getting closer and closer to the verge. Ringelen could barely keep up with the intensity and her eyes were tearing up, but she could not spare herself the delight of seeing him overtaken completely by the pleasure that she had brought him. It was not long after this thought occurred to her when Haldir’s movements almost froze, he threw his head back slightly and he finished inside of the elleth’s mouth. He pulled her on top of his body and panted heavily, examining the features of her face. She seemed even fairer, marked with the redness of lust across her cheeks and her slightly watering eyes, along with her puffed-up reddened lips.

“I believe that makes us even, march warden Haldir,” she stated flatly in a low voice before she proceeded to kiss him deeply. He pulled the covers over both of them without breaking the kiss and held her down into it with his right hand buried in her hair and his left hand at the small of her back.

In the morning they had flusteredly prepared to meet the lords and lady, for they were aware that with the morning the time had come for the return journey to Mirkwood. When Haldir and Ringelen left his house on the flet and hurried down to Caras Galadhon, they were surprised to find that the Elven king’s company was already prepared to leave. The surprise was immeasurable for the lords and the lady, on their part, to find most unexpectedly that the two were approaching together.

“Ah, Ringelen, I was almost worried where you had spent the night, but it appears that our dear march warden has taken care of you,” Galadriel smiled warmly.

“And I was almost worried that you had found a way to run off after all,” Thranduil added. 

“As most unexpected as I consider it myself, he did indeed,” Ringelen turned to Galadriel with as confident a tone as she could, disregarding Thranduil’s retort, while she begged to every star that she knew of that the lady would not find out in what manner Haldir had precisely ‘taken care of her’.

The Mirkwood company took leave of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn and were now being escorted to the borders of Lorien by Haldir.

“You are lagging behind, Ringelen. What is the matter? Did you have too much wine at the feast last night?” King Thranduil mocked. Ringelen clenched her jaw tightly and looked threateningly at the march warden, though he could not see her, for he was in front of the whole group. She was angry for he had kept her promise and she was trying really hard to master her trembling legs, if she did not wish to look like a baby fawn stumbling after its mother for the rest of the journey. The worst part was that she had to keep at it all the way to Mirkwood and even by her kin’s foresight she could not see how that could possibly work out the way she currently managed to force it to.

“With all due respect, my Lord, out of all folk you are the one who least has a say in what ‘too much wine’ is,” she retorted. “And no, I did not have ‘too much wine’.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” he said mockingly with a flat voice. “Then how so are you not in the spirits to antagonize anybody? Perhaps the march warden has successfully found a way to silence you and put you in your place? That would be most deserving of a trophy.”

“You could say that he has,” she barely muttered through her teeth at the memory and though Haldir had his back turned on her, she could almost feel him smirk when no one could see him. “Though I would not counsel that you count on it for too long.”

“I would have you catch up with the march warden, with your current pace I am unable to keep an eye on you, it makes me uneasy,” Thranduil commanded mockingly. 

“Oh, but I feed on your unease, Elven King,” Ringelen proclaimed with irritation as she staggered to catch up with Haldir, struggling to walk as naturally as she possibly could with her legs that felt as thin as sticks.

“Do you need me to carry you, lady warrior?” Haldir mocked her with a straight face as she finally caught up with him according to the king’s orders.

“I would much rather crawl,” she hissed. As soon as they had climbed out of bed earlier in the morning, nothing in their attitude would indicate that the night before had happened, though it most evidently was not a dream.

“Please, do, if that is your wish. I would be most glad to witness it,” this time Haldir turned to her slightly and his lips were curved in a barely visible smile. For a moment she was baffled by the sight and she gazed at him intently, but she came back to her senses and turned her eyes away. The memory of the night before had sneaked into her thoughts for a moment and she struggled to chase it away. 

“You are impossible, march warden,” she muttered and looked back at him like a sour, defeated child, but as soon as she looked at him, memories of the previous night overtook again and the picture of him moaning above her made her turn away again with shame. Haldir was certain that he had guessed her thoughts as he himself was guilty of the same, so he turned to her with a slight smile, which hinted both at understanding and mocking. She gave him a meaningful look and as they gazed at each other for a second in an unspoken shared feeling, she suddenly stepped in front of him and lift her chained hands up, blocking an arrow with the chains that was meant for the march warden.

“That was an enormous amount of luck,” Haldir stated as he acknowledged what had happened.

“A simple thank you would do, seeing as I just saved your life,” Ringelen sneered.

“I believe we have a more pressing matter to deal with,” the march warden retorted as a number of orcs approached the company, “Stay behind me!” He commanded as he drew his bow, standing in front of her to shield her with his body and he shot an orc down.

“Only through my dead body,” she whispered and launched herself at the closest orc, strangling it with her chain. The orcs were not many and as everyone from the Mirkwood company joined in on the raid, it was soon cleared. Ringelen had taken on the last orc standing, its blade landed in the middle of her held up chains and she was about to take him down when an arrow took that pleasure away from her. She turned to the direction from which the arrow had been shot and to no surprise of hers, it was Haldir who had shot the arrow. She frowned.

“Saved your life. We are even now, lady warrior,” he referred to her words from the night before.

“This one was mine!”

“A simple thank you would do,” he continued deriding her and then paused. “We have reached the borders,” he proclaimed, the statement being meant mostly for her, even though he turned to king Thranduil. “I wish you all a safe journey back to Mirkwood.”

“Thank you, march warden Haldir, fair winds,” the King replied courteously and led the company onward. Ringelen hesitated for a moment as the king passed her by. Haldir was looking at her expectantly and she turned to face him.

“That was some impressive chain fighting,” he stated with a straight face.

“You should see me with a pair of swords. Or a bow. Or an axe. Or anything else other than chains, really,” she replied proudly.

“I hope you will return to Lorien and demonstrate for me,” at those words of his she could not help but think of the previous night again. She had demonstrated much more than she should have.

“I hope that I will not need to carry a weapon next time I return to Lorien. Nor chains, for that matter,” she was interrupted by the stern voice of the king.

“Lead the way, Ringelen, do not fall behind,” he called over his shoulder and she sighed deeply with irritation.

“You are the march warden now,” Haldir smiled and leaned in closer to her, so only she could hear him, “Good luck, especially with your legs,” he bid her farewell and she shook her head in disbelief at his statement. Had he no shame, this one? No, he did not, he had kept his promise and was proud of it. She bowed to him and headed to the front of the company. She looked over her shoulder for a last glimpse of the stern march warden and he was still there, arms crossed behind his back and he was gazing at her. She kept stealing a look over her shoulder until he was not to be seen any more.

“If you keep turning around in the same fashion, you will break your neck,” the king had noticed her, but she ignored his words. “It is no use, he is gone now,” he smirked mockingly as he thought he had guessed the reason behind her actions. 

“I do not know what you are talking about,” she muttered with a flat voice as she gazed at the road ahead. She turned around no more.


End file.
